Indiana Jones and the Eye of the Snake
by GirlOnFire15
Summary: Alison Jones is thrilled when her mother, Marion Ravenwood, sends her to her estranged father. it's not long before Alison is caught up in the adventure of a lifetime. Please R
1. Leave?

Chapter One

"Alison Jones, you listen to me right now. This behavior is not acceptable. You're fifteen years old!" said my mom, Marion Ravenwood Jones.

"I'm perfectly aware of that, thank you," I said. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I'm not a child anymore, I-"

"You're being ridiculous. I don't even know where to begin!" said Mom. "You're getting horrible grades when we both know you're capable of doing more than that. And that boyfriend, Johnny or something, I don't like him at all."

"It's Jared, and you have nothing to worry about. Ugh, this is none of your business! Stay out of my life!"

"I don't want you thinking you're in love when you're not," said Mom. I laughed mockingly.

"You wouldn't know what love was if it bit you in the-"

"Alison! You don't use that kind of language! You know, you're just exactly like your father, and I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing," said Mom. "In fact, maybe you ought to spend a little time with him, so we can both just…cool off a little."

I was stunned, to say in the least. Leave? Go stay with… my dad? Even though my parents had never officially been divorced, they'd split when I was five, so I had only dim recollections of Dr. Indiana Jones. I'd always secretly wanted to meet him, and it looked like now was my chance. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. "Let's go to New York."

A week later, we sat in a taxi outside of Dad's house. Mom sighed. "Let's go, Allie."

We got out of the taxi and knocked on the door. He answered it almost immediately. He looked almost exactly the same as when I'd last seen him, if a little older.

"Indiana Jones," said Mom, and I was surprised to see she was smiling. "It's been awhile."

Dad chuckled. "Come in, girls."

Mom and I stepped in, and Dad took my suitcase. We sat awkwardly in his living room. After a few minutes of strained conversation, I excused myself to the bathroom. When I went back, they were talking about me. I stayed in the hallway, curious as to what Mom would say about me.

"What gives, Marion? You never wanted me to have a relationship with her. You told me to stay away because it would be best for her. I did what you said. So why are you bringing her here?" asked Dad. His words shocked me. Mom had told him to stay away? I struggled to hold back my temper. She had no right to do that!

"I just…I don't know what to do, Indy," Mom burst out. "She's hard for me to handle."

"Hard for _you_ to handle? I'm scared now. She must be a real fireball. Tell me about her," said Dad. He sounded amused.

"She's a smart kid, when she tries. But she's failing in school, and the other day, I found her _kissing a boy_."

"So? As I recall, Marion, you did quite a bit of the same thing."

"Stop it, Jones, that's not the point. She's a fighter. I can't even count the number of boys she's decked."

"She sure sounds like her mother," he said in an amused tone. I raised my eyebrows. My mom, hit anyone? Ha! What a joke.

"Actually, she's exactly like you. She's a difficult girl, Indy. Are you sure you can handle her?" asked Mom. Dad laughed.

"If she's as much like me as you say, I know exactly what she needs."

"A good kick?" teased Mom. Then her voice became stern. "Now, you listen to me, Indiana Jones. I don't want her traipsing all over the world with you, after money or glory or whatever it is you're usually after. I want her safe."

"I'll try, Marion, but I'll do what I think is best, even if it's taking her with me. She's safer with me than here with Marcus."

"Fair enough," said Mom, even though she didn't sound convinced. Their words piqued my curiosity. Money and glory and danger? This sounded like my kind of place! There was no way I was going to get left behind if my father Dr. Jones went anywhere interesting.

Their conversation turned to lighter topics, and I chose that moment to reenter. Dad looked at me knowingly, as though he knew I'd been eavesdropping. Mom left half an hour later. Dad surveyed me for a long, awkward minute.

"Your mother told me why you're here," he said finally.

"I know. I heard you talking," I replied. He didn't look surprised, merely satisfied, and slightly amused. I also thought I saw a hint of pride in his face.

Life was different at my dad's house. We got along very well, and I had more freedom. You see, he trusted me not to do anything stupid. I loved living with my dad, and after two weeks, we had a sort of routine.

We were eating dinner in amiable silence one night when there came a knock on the door. I started to clear the table while Dad answered it.

"Hey, Marcus! Come in!" I heard him say happily. "Allie, come here," he called. I went into the living room and saw a man much older than Dad sitting in one of the chairs.

"Hello," I said.

"Allie, this is my good friend, Mr. Marcus Brody," Dad introduced.

"Oh my, Indiana, this can't be Alison," said Mr. Brody. I decided that I liked this guy. He seemed friendly enough, if a little clueless.

"She is, Marcus. This is my girl," said Dad proudly. Mr. Brody smiled at me.

"She's got your eyes, and Marion's nose," he said. Dad laughed.

"She's got my temper, too," he said teasingly. I ignored that.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Brody," I said politely.

"This isn't the first time you've met Marcus, Allie. He used to watch you when your mother and I went -on vacation," said Dad hurriedly. I hid my suspicion. Brody turned to my dad with his eyebrows raised.

"That's what I came to talk to you about. And opportunity for a… vacation."

"Ah," said Dad. "Allie, could you…?"

"Right," I said. "I'll go do the dishes." Dad nodded gratefully. But, as I started to wash the dishes, I listened hard.

"Indiana, if you don't mind me asking, you haven't seen the girl in ten years. Why now?"

"Because… Marion asked me to," replied Dad hesitantly.

"You seemed thrilled on the phone," said Marcus knowingly. There was a long silence. "It broke your heart when Marion asked you to stay away, didn't it?"

"Marion said it would be better for her, for all of us, if I didn't keep contact," Dad mumbled. That made me sad. I loved my dad and I felt ten years' worth of loss. But it wasn't going to happen again. Just then, Dad interrupted my thoughts.

"What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Ah. The government showed up after you left today. They have a proposition for you. They want you to find the Eye of the Snake, before the Russians do."

"I can't. I promised Marion I wouldn't go off with Alison, and I can hardly leave her here alone."

"But, Indy, this is important. If the Russians get a hold of it-"

"I know, Marcus. I'll think about it and get back to you."

"You could always take her with you. Marion need never know."

"No. It's too dangerous, and Marion would be furious. She'd keep Allie away from me. I'm not going to risk that."

"Fair enough. I'd better get going, then."

Brody left. After he was gone, Dad began to talk, seemingly to an empty room.

"Alright, Alison, I know you're listening. Why don't you just come out here and we can talk about this."

**Hey, guys!!!! Hope you like it, and please review.**


	2. Fedora Hats and Guns

I stepped out of the kitchen. Dad looked at me, trying to look stern. "So… what's the Eye of the Snake?" I asked nonchalantly. He rolled his eyes.

"It's a gem," he replied.

"What do the Russians want with a gem?"

"Well, it's said to have strong paranormal powers. They probably think it'll make them invincible. I've run into that attitude before."

"So… when are we leaving?"

"NO, Alison."

"What?" I asked innocently. "If it's really that important it doesn't look as though we've got a choice."

"Even if I did go, which I might, I'm not taking you with me."

"Why not?"

"It's too dangerous."

"I can take care of myself."

Dad thought for a long time. "Alright, Allie. We'll go… as long as you agree to a few things. First, You have to do exactly what I tell you to, no matter what. Second, if your mother asks, it's safer with me. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Good. Let's start packing."

Dad was in a strange mood as we packed our stuff. He kept looking in this little old brown leather journal thing. "What's that?" I finally asked. It took almost a full minute for him to look up.

"It belonged to your grandpa. It's a journal full of notes, for things like the holy grail, and the Eye of the Snake. I thought it would be helpful."

"Okay… so where are we going?"

Dad didn't answer for several minutes. "England," he said after a while. I nodded enthusiastically. Then, something seemed to occur to him. "Hold on. What did you pack?"

"Clothes," I replied, a little nonplussed.

"Blue jeans?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I packed the only pair of blue jeans I own, but other than that I only have skirts. Will that be a problem?"

"Yes- no, wait." Dad disappeared into his room, and came out with a bundle.

"Your mother left these here ten years ago. They'll probably fit you. Ditch the skirts, and anything you care about."

I did what he said. He was right- my mom's old clothes fit almost perfectly, if they were a tad big. When I came back out, my dad was dressed in what I dubbed his "adventure clothes." His old fedora hat was perched on his head. I smiled at that. I may not have had a lot of memories of him, but I did remember the hat. He used to let me wear it, before mom and I left.

I couldn't help it-I was thrilled to be going on an adventure with Indiana Jones. I wasn't really scared, until I saw what Dad handed me next.

It was a gun.

"No way," I said. "NO WAY!"

"Why not?"

"I'll end up accidentally killing someone!"

"No you won't."

"How do you know? You have no idea how many accidents I get into without being handed a dangerous firearm! So how can you possibly know I won't make a mistake?"

"Because there's no bullets in it," he said calmly.

"Oh," I said, a little embarrassed. "So what would be the point in me carrying that thing?"

"You and I know that it doesn't have any bullets, but any one we run into won't. Honestly, Allie. Do you really think I'd give you a loaded gun?" dad paused, and continued when I didn't answer. "Don't worry, though. I'll be carrying a loaded gun."

"Do you- do you think we'll need it?"

"Without a doubt."

Seeing the look on my face, Dad sighed. "It's a dangerous business. Are you sure you want to come? I could leave you with Mr. Brody."

I sighed. "No, I want to come."

**Hey, guys. We've almost gotten to the good stuff! I promise, in the next chapter there'll be a lot of action. Thanks for being patient.**


	3. Trouble!

"You're as stubborn as your mother," my Dad informed me irritably. I smiled.

"Thank you," I said cheerfully. Dad was still a little annoyed with me for convincing him to bring me along, and at himself for caving in. I, however, was quite thrilled. We sat in silence on our way to the airport, each lost in our own thoughts.

Any hopes of talking to dad during the flight were dashed as he pulled his hat over his eyes and went to sleep. I sighed heavily and stared out the window. The flight went fine- but the trouble was waiting for us.

We'd hardly made it out of the airport when we heard a voice, deep and heavily accented. _Russian_.

"Hello, Dr. Jones," said the voice. "You will come with me, now." Dad froze, and slowly turned around. There, standing deep in the shadows of the airport, was a man. He was tall and brawny, with a buzz haircut. Oh, and I forgot to mention one little detail:

He held a gun in his hand.

It was leveled at Dad's chest. "Hello, Virote," said Dad. He look cornered, resigned. He looked at me. He bent down and whispered in my ear. "Allie," he said. I tore my eyes away from the gun.

"What?" I asked.

"Allie, I need you to listen to me, alright?" he handed me his wallet. "Go find a telephone. Call your mother, tell her what's happened. Then I want you to use this money and get the first plane out of here. Understand?"

"Yes," I said slowly. "But you're assuming that I'm leaving you alone here. Well, I'm not."

Dad closed his eyes. "Alison. Please. Go now."

His eyes, widened, and he pushed my head down and threw his fist where my head had been. I turned around- and saw a man sprawled out on the ground behind me. I just stared for a second, until I heard a low grunt behind me. I turned around, and saw my dad losing a fight against four or five guys twice his size.

"ALLIE! GET OUT OF HERE, NOW!" he roared. One of the guys sent his fist barreling into his stomach, and in three seconds flat, four of the men restrained him as the fifth came after me. I met my dad's eyes, I read what was there.

And I understood.

With a wild yell, I karate chopped the guy who came after me. I hit him twice and he went out like a light. I looked uncertainly at Dad. He grinned at winked at me, as if to say "Don't worry about it, kid. I'll be alright."

I didn't believe him. I didn't have a choice. I turned and sprinted away as fast as I could.

Even as my head told me it was right, my heart screamed to go back. Abandoning my dad went against every fiber of my being. But he'd been clear. I ran up random streets, searching for a red telephone booth. I couldn't find one. Not a single one!

I turned a corner, and there it was! I'd never been so happy to see a phone! I darted in and picked it up. My fingers shook, and it took four tries to dial the number correctly. I waited desperately for her to answer.

She didn't.

I stumbled out of the phone booth and sank to the ground. The hysteria and panic built and built until it hurt to hold it in. I broke into heaving sobs. I was a tad irritated at myself, but I couldn't find the will to stop. The more I thought the more, I realized what a bad situation I was in: I was alone in a foreign country. I couldn't talk to my mom. My dad was in the hands of the Russians. It couldn't get any worse.

"Er, excuse me?" said a voice. I looked up. And then I momentarily lost all coherent thought. The person who spoke to me was a guy. He looked two, maybe three years older than me. And he was… well, attractive, to say in the least. He was tall, probably at least six feet. He had deep brown hair and green eyes.

"What?" I said. He gestured to the phone booth, and I realized I was sitting directly in front of it. I scooted off to the side and watched him enter the booth. He talked on the phone for several minutes. As he walked out, I realized that I still had tears streaming down my face. He glanced at me, then continued on.

He'd only taken a few steps when he slowed, then stopped completely. He came back over to me. "Excuse me," he said. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

I stared at him. "I'm Will," he said. "Will Chandler."

"I'm Allie," I said. He nodded.

"You're and American?" he said. "What's a little American girl doing here in London?"

I shook my head. "Can you just tell me how to get to the airport?"

"Sure. I'll do better than that. I'll take you there," he said. He held a hand out. I hesitated, then reluctantly took it.

It didn't take long to get to the airport. As we turned the corner, my eyes fell on the place I'd run from only thirty minutes before. I expected it to be empty. It wasn't. A man leaned against the wall. He casually smoked a cigarette, but I wasn't fooled. The buzz gave him away. My eyes swept around the airport. There were at least six more of them stationed in strategic positions. I yanked. Will back around the corner.

"Shoot," I said. "Shoot, shoot shoot."

"What's wrong?" asked Will. I didn't answer. I began to go into a full out panic mode. I tried to breathe, but I couldn't get enough air into my lungs.

I saw the man with the cigarette approach us. "Get out of here," I said anxiously to Will. "Please. Just trust me."

But it was too late. "Alison Jones," said the man. It was Virote. "I would come with me if I were you."

"Yeah? Why? So you can kill me?" I demanded. He smiled.

"Because if you don't, then Dr. Jones will die," he said pleasantly.

That was the clincher. "Fine," I said.

"Good girl," said Virote.

Determination and fury rose in equal measures inside me. I'd play along, sure, but I had no intention of being a 'good girl.' To show him that, I spit in his face. He grabbed my arm.

"Whoa, wait a second here," said Will. Oh. I'd almost forgotten him. "Allie, what's going on?"

"Oh, if I could tell you," I said ruefully. "You don't need to get involved."

"Oh yeah," he said sarcastically. "I'm definitely going to let you go off with a guy like that. You probably can't even throw a punch."

"Why don't you come a little closer and you can find out," I snapped. What a jerk! I could throw a punch, probably better than he could!

"Stop it," said Virote. "You will both come."

Virote made a sharp gesture with his hand, and several men jogged over to us. One of them reached out with his pistol and slammed it into the back of Will's head. He crumpled to the ground.

"Hey," I protested. I was so busy staring at Will that I didn't see the gun swing towards my face. I felt a shattering pain, and everything was gone.

**I just watched The Last Crusade last night. Ha, I love Sean Connery's character, he's hilarious. Okay, there's something I want you to do for me: A) review. B) tell me at least one reason how you know you're obsessed with Indiana Jones, and I'll put one or two at the end of each chapter. Here's mine.**

**You know you're obsessed when:**

**a) you buy a replica of Indy's hat with your own money at Disneyland, and you're upset when you only see thirty year old guys wearing them.**

**b) you wear said hat when watching the movies, reading the books, writing/reading the fanfictions, and all the time just because you feel like it.**

**c) when you wear said hat you tend to imagine being Indiana Jones' daughter (son if you're a boy.)**

**haha. I do all of those. Your turn.**


	4. Pillows and Pistols

When I woke up, my head was pounding like a drum. It took me several minutes to work up enough energy to open my eyes and sit up. I was in a small room with stone walls and a stone floor.

"Hey there," said a very familiar voice. My dad sat across the room from me. I flew across the room and threw my arms around his neck. "Allie, would you like to tell me why you're here and not on a plane to the States?" he asked sternly. I threw my hands up.

"I swear I was going! But Mom didn't answer the phone and the Russian guy-"

"Virote."

"Yeah, him. He had a bunch of guys watching the airport, and I was working on a plan to get in when they caught me," I explained.

"Okay. Who's this?" He asked, gesturing to Will, who sat in a corner.

"I'm Will Chandler, sir," he said.

"Hi," said Dad.

"Will was showing me how to get back to the airport," I said. "And he wouldn't leave when Virote showed up. Speaking of which," I said, remembering that I was mad at him, "If he hadn't hit you with the gun, I would've hit you with my fist."

"What are you talking about?" asked Dad. I scowled at Will.

"He said, and I quote, 'I bet you can't even throw a punch.' As soon as we get out of here, you're toast," I snapped at Will. Dad chuckled.

"You probably shouldn't have said that," he said to Will. "Little Alison has a temper. Just like her mother," he said. "And she can definitely throw a punch," he added. He grinned. "And I can just imagine her response. I'll bet she said 'come over here and I'll prove it,' or something along those lines."

"Something along those lines," said Will.

"And I meant it," I grumbled. "But enough of that. How are we going to get out of here?"

"Allie, I think we'll just have to wait to get out. There's not a single way out of here that I could find… yet. Besides, let's see what the Russians want first," said Dad wisely.

"Are you KIDDING me?" I asked. "What d'you think they want, to invite us to _tea_? No offense," I added to Will as an afterthought. "We both know what they want, Dad. Don't think I don't know. I heard you and Mr. Brody talking."

Before dad could say anything, the door burst open. Six men stood at the door. "You vill come vith us," said one of them. We really didn't have a choice, so we got up and followed them out.

They led us through a very long hall and into another room, though it was much larger than the one we were kept in. Inside it was a table, a fireplace, and a few chairs. And Virote stood in the center of the room.

"Very good," he said. "Or, as the Germans say it, _das gut_."

"Pals with the Germans, huh?" said Dad. "I should've figured. Rats _always_ travel in _packs_."

I snorted. Virote glared at me, then reached over and yanked me in front of him. "You can enjoy your little joke, Dr. Jones," he said. "But your daughter will pay for it."

He hit me across the face. My head rung, but that didn't stop me from saying what I said next: "That," I said, "was pathetic. I've been hit harder by a pillow."

He hit me again, harder this time. I laughed.

"Allie," said Dad warningly. "Stop."

Virote glared at me. Then, he strode over to the table and picked something up. Dad's whip. He uncoiled it menacingly. I'd had enough. He'd messed with me too much. I folded my arms across my chest.

"Go on," I said. "I _dare_ you to hit me with that."

"Don't try and make me think you have something over me," said Virote, chuckling. "We both know you don't."

Oh, but he was wrong. I did. Dad didn't know it. Will didn't know it. But I did.

"I can do whatever I like to you here," said Virote. "I could kill you and no one would know. But before I do that-" he turned to my father. "You mentioned the Germans, Dr. Jones. I'm actually here as a favor to them. You see, they don't like you very much at all. You ruined everything. All that business with the Holy Grail!"

"Let's not pretend like you're here as a favor for anyone," said dad. "What do you really want?"

"You should know, Jones. I want the Eye of the Snake."

"Ah. Well, as you can see, we don't have it. If you'll kindly let us go now."

"I don't think I will. I'm having much more fun than I've had in a long, long time."

He snapped his fingers, and two of his buffoons grabbed me. They slammed me up against a wall, so I was nearly nose to nose with it.

There was a loud crack, and something hit my back with immense force. I jerked forward, gritting my teeth as a fiery pain shot through me.

"Stop," said Dad. "Please. Leave her alone."

It hit me a second time. I swore. I had a knife in my pocket, but I couldn't get to it. Well, _shoot_. There went my only threat.

Three.

Four.

I clenched my fists. "These guys are going to have to let me go sometime," I said, trying somewhat successfully to keep my voice from shaking. "And when they do, I'm going to hit you."

He merely chuckled. It was getting harder to ignore the pain now, and I felt tears rush to my eyes. I forced them back into my head. I needed a distraction.

"Dad. Talk to me," I said.

"About what?"

"Anything."

"Your mother's going to kill me," he said. I chuckled. _Twelve._

"Yes, she will," said a voice behind me. The room went silent.

"Who are you?" barked Virote. I heard a loud smack.

"I'm her mother," said the voice. Then the room exploded with voices.

"MOM!" I yelled.

"Marion? What are you doing here?"

"GET HER!"

The two guys holding me dropped me and went after my mom. I took a deep breath and picked myself up off the floor.

It was utter chaos. Mom swung a chair around, clocking guys in the head. Will fought with a poker he'd found somewhere, and Dad had his gun. I looked around for something I could fight with-and my eyes fell on a rifle. I picked it up and fired a shot at the ceiling. Everyone went quiet.

"Alright," I said calmly. "If you don't listen to me, all you Russians are going to die. Go stand over by that wall," I commanded. They did. "Dad?" I said. He nodded tightly, and he and mom proceeded to tie them all up. When they were done, dad looked at me with half concern, half pride.

"Are you alright?" he asked me.

"Never better. Let's get out of here. Any idea where our stuff is?" I asked.

"Not a clue. We can peek in a few rooms as we head out."

We left. As it happens, we did find our stuff. We grabbed it and booked it on out of there. As we left the building, there was the click of a gun behind us.

"Very good, Dr. Jones. You definitely live up to expectations."


	5. Old Friends

We all turned slowly around. Standing behind us was a very thin man, with white hair and piercing blue eyes. My mom gasped, and my dad smiled, though I couldn't imagine why. Dad began to chuckle darkly.

"Belloq," he said. "Belloq. I thought you were dead."

"Yes, Dr. Jones, I know you did. But, as you can clearly see, I am quite alive and well," he said. "Marion. It is a pleasure to see you again. And who are they?" he asked pleasantly, gesturing at me and Will.

"I'm Alison," I said, slightly aggressively. "And you'd better be a good guy, because if you're not, you're toast."

"Don't tell me," said Belloq. His eyes glinted in amusement. "This is your daughter, isn't she?" he asked my parents. They didn't answer. Mom suddenly turned to Will.

"Who are you?' she asked, bewildered.

"Er, I'm Will Chandler," he said. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing here."

"Alison, what've you done to the poor boy?" Mom asked. I scowled.

"He was taking me to the airport when that German guy caught up with us. And I still owe you something," I said sweetly to Will. And then I punched him. Just in the arm- so I wouldn't do any real damage.

Dad laughed at me. "That's my girl," he said. Mom looked scandalized.

"Aly, what was that about?" she asked. I smiled.

"He said I couldn't throw a punch," I said by way of explanation.

"Yeah, well I believe you now," said Will, rubbing his arm. The French man named Belloq chuckled.

"She will be a most formidable adversary one day," he said. I glared at him. "Come," he said. "We're going to spend some time together, so we might as well be friends, right Marion?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Mom.

"Well, the Eye of the Snake of course!" he replied.

"What's that?"

"It's a diamond_, cherie_."

And then Mom told him exactly where he could stick the diamond. I was shocked. I'd never heard my mom use language like that before! Will snorted, and Dad chuckled, mostly at the expression on my face.

"Wait, wait," said Dad. He looked highly entertained. "You think we've got the diamond?"

"Well, of course you do," said Belloq. He looked confused. Dad began to laugh.

"We don't have it," he said. "We were barely starting to look for it when Virote caught up with us. I ran into an old friend of yours, by the way," he said. Dad frowned.

"Who?"

"If you come with me, you'll see him," said Belloq.

"You're lying."

"Maybe, maybe not. Only one way to find out."

Dad sighed in resignation. "Fine. At least give me a clue."

"You have not seen this friend since the 1930s," said Belloq.

"That's not helpful," muttered Dad.

We followed Belloq to the street over and got into a car. We drove for a couple of hours, getting out at a giant estate with a rolling green yard and several fountains.

"This belong to you, Belloq?" asked Dad. Belloq smiled.

"Family property," he said.

We got out and followed him inside. He led us through several long hallways into a huge room. Sitting inside the room was a man.

He was fairly young, probably late twenties, early thirties. He was Asian-probably Japanese. The man saw my dad- and looked shocked. My dad frowned, apparently unable to recognize the man.

The man stood up and approached my dad. Comprehension slowly dawned on Dad's face, and his jaw dropped.

"Short Round?" he asked. The man grinned, and I suddenly had a vision of him twenty years younger.

"Hey, Dr. Jones!" he said. Dad laughed and hugged the man named Short Round.

"You look good, Short Stuff," he said. Short Round smiled at Dad.

"You look old," he said. "How you doing, Indy?"

"Good. Hey, I've gotta introduce you to my family," said Dad. "This is my… this is Marion," he said. "And this is my daughter, Aly."

"Marion?" asked Short Round in confusion. "What about Willie Scott?"

"I, well, Willie… I haven't seen Willie in eighteen years," said Dad uncomfortably.

"Whoa whoa whoa," said mom. "Willie Scott? The _famous singer_, Willie Scott?"

"Umm, well…" said dad awkwardly. "Yeah. That's Willie."

Belloq cleared his throat. "Now that we've all had a comfortable little reunion, let's get to work, shall we?"

"I didn't say I'd help you," said Dad. Belloq nodded.

He strode over to Short Round and held a gun to his head.


End file.
